Sars Flannery

Rooted in the sounds of 60s British pop, Sars Flannery’s debut, Sale of the Century, is a foxy, hook-laden album poised to take on America from within. Named for an auction of mostly Beatles memorabilia that took place at Abbey Road Studios in 1980, Sale of the Century taps into a John Hughes teen-angst vibe whiles leaving plenty of room for parents of generation-XBox to swoon over its Lennonesque vocals.
Born in 1987 in Albany, NY, Flannery revered the Beatles and The Beach Boys as a kid. In high-school, he fell in love with the sound of The Zombies, The Hollies, and The Kinks, as well as soundtracks to 60s TV shows, among them “The Avengers” and “The Monkees”. He also became interested in film, finding much to like in the work of Anderson-sur-named directors Paul-Thomas and Wes. Now a film major in his senior year at Northwestern, Sars makes a close study of his influences. As he puts it, “I think the best way to make good art is to pick a decade and steal all the stylistic elements from one segment of that decade’s culture. Apply your own personal stamp and you’ve got something fresh that people haven’t quite heard before. Look at the works of director John Waters. His films mimic the styles and conventions of the 50s, but he throws in his own perverse sense of humor and comes out with brilliant results.”
Sale of the Century, an ultra-catchy, if slyly disenchanted ode to the 60s, was recorded in the spring of 2007 at Chicago’s Gallery of Carpet Studios. Resident producer Brian Zieske (The Hush Sound, The Academy Is) was at the helm. Musicians for the sessions were plucked from the ranks of sought after Chicago indie-popsters from bands like Company of Thieves, Villains of Verona, and the late Dorian Minor. Zieske, who also plays bass on the entire record, collaborated heavily with Sars on the conception and execution of the album. Looking to the recording credits of Invasion archetypes Joe Meek and Jeff Beck for inspiration, Zieske played arranger and co-conspirator to Sars’ role as songwriter, vocalist, and conceptual architect.
Crafty pop antics abound on the record. Think handclaps panned slightly to the left and fuzzed out lead guitar to the right (“Empty Gun”) and velvety background vocals with tremolo-heavy B3 organ (“High School Fairytale”). The chorus of “The Other Guy” sets disconsolate lyrics “Please do not remind me of the simple words of my demise...” to bass and an ancient distorted keyboard locked in a go-go groove beside reverb soaked Fender on the backbeat. In the sparse, bass-line lead crescendos of “The Other Guy” verses, Sars remains crestfallen: “I won’t say that we weren’t similar. But why were we raised to compare?”
On Sale of the Century, Sars Flannery’s lovelorn, intelligent, and often isolated lyrical content is scored by vintage toned instrumentation and poignant, crafty arrangements. It’s the soundtrack to the night of a breakup, but before that last choice make-out session.
(courtesy of Miles Ganon Arnay )